My Dark Angel
362 words
I dreamed of her again last night, my dark angel.She was sitting on a ledge, gazing at me.I knew, in the way you know in dreams, that she needed me.She seemed so tired, her wings soot covered, her dress torn.Behind her lightning split the sky.I could see the battle was still raging, a war I’ve witnessed the past seven nights, a struggle for control of a world I’ve never seen.A black figure climbs the cliff at my angel’s feet, claws digging into the stone, eyes glowing red, a sword strapped to its back.I scream to warn her.
But I wake up.I’m in my own bed, the sweat-soaked sheets tangled around my legs, my heart pounding.I lay still, the fear gripping me.I gasp for breath.A glance at the clock shows the alarm would blare in a couple of minutes.Calming, I turn it off and drag myself toward the bathroom.I have to work today.
I go through my day in a daze, what needs to be done is taken care of, but my mind’s not on the job.I just don’t care, how can I?Each time I close my eyes I see her, her dark eyes begging me for help, her hand reached to grab mine.If I could just bring her to me, brush the tangled hair from her face, kiss her full lips and tell her she’s safe.
At five, I head straight home, eat a couple pieces of cold pizza.I turn on the tv, but nothing’s grabs my attention.The new is boring, the sitcoms stupid, the reality shows pointless.I turn it off and open the book sitting on the end table, but I can’t concentrate.All I want is to go back to sleep, to see her, make sure she is still alive.Finally knowing I’m too keyed up to sleep without help, I take a pill, lay down, and hope to dream of my dark angel again.
I see her.She’s holding a bloody sword, but not injured.I hear her calling, «Come.»
In the morning, the alarm beeps and beeps and beeps.
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